


I Hate You

by Crystal



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), Drake Labry - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Slight Violence(use of a knife)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-17
Updated: 2011-07-17
Packaged: 2017-10-21 12:18:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/225093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crystal/pseuds/Crystal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This fic came from my fucked up imagination. We really don't know why Adam & Drake broke up. This is just my Adam muse getting his.</p>
    </blockquote>





	I Hate You

**Author's Note:**

> This fic came from my fucked up imagination. We really don't know why Adam & Drake broke up. This is just my Adam muse getting his.

It all came rushing back the minute I saw him. We have been cool for the longest time, but something about seeing him again brought it all back. He was also with, what I assume was his current boyfriend. An odd tinge of jealously kicked in when I saw that, but I brushed it off pretty quickly. Although I sit here wondering if he was the one...

I really think it was going back through the old journal entries for songwriting that brought everything closer to the surface. The moment I saw his face all the anger balled in the pit of my stomach. It took everything in me to not go over to him. But now the ideas of revenge in my head are literally overwhelming me.

Sitting at the kitchen table, the dim overhead light making the two objects in front of me shine. My car keys, which sit atop my gloves, and a knife. I pick the knife up and set it next to my keys as I pick up my fingerless gloves, smoothing them onto my hands one at a time. I pick up the knife again and watch it glisten in the limited light. Resting the point against my fingertip I slowly turn it. With each turn of the knife my sanity slips further and further away. The sane, normal me would never, ever do what I think I'm about to do. I had got off to the idea of it in the past, which I do not regret. It sated my need for revenge at the time, but the need to make him feel like he did me has returned with a terrible vengeance. I want him to feel what he did to me. I want him to know what it feels like. I want to make him feel as worthless as he made me feel.

There's no hesitation as I grab my keys and head out to the car knife still in hand. I get in and start it up, scanning through my iPod I start up Nine Inch Nails' Pretty Hate Machine album. The lyrics and the darkness of this album fitting my mood as I back out of the driveway and head straight for his house. I can't help but sing along to “That's What I Get” it sums up my feelings perfectly. You think the drive would bring me back to my senses, but it hasn't. By the time I pull up to his house I'm still in revenge mode. I park across the street and look over, seeing there's still a couple lights on in his house, and another car besides his in the driveway. A dark, nearly sadistic grin lights my face. The other car has to be his boyfriend's. It's all coming together perfectly. I get out of the car, and dig in my trunk, finding the rope inside. I slip it into my pocket and shut the trunk. A determined walk has me at his door in seconds. I knock, taking the knife from my pocket, I'm twirling it at my fingertip once more as I wait for an answer.

The door opens, “Yeah...oh...Adam...” He slowly looks up, and I watch his eyes widen as he sees the look in my eyes. I watch him swallow slowly and try to talk again, “What are you...” I cut him off with the tip of the knife at his lips.

“Drake,” Just saying his name makes me angrier. “Get in the fucking house.” He looks over his shoulder, hesitating because his boyfriend is in the other room. I slide the tip of the knife down his lip, closer to his neck as I lower my voice, “I said get in the fucking house Drake.”

He slowly pulls away and walks into the house. I shut the door behind us as he stops and turns to me.

“What's going on Adam? You... You're not yourself...”

“I haven't been myself since that night.” I say moving close, slowly circling him, eying up the knife in my hand.

“I... I thought we were past that. I thought we were cool now.” Drake's eyes worriedly following my every step. Occasionally looking off to the next room, probably praying his new toy doesn't show up.

My laugh is low, dark and long and I watch his body shiver at the evil tone.

A voice comes from the other room, “Baby are you coming to bed?”

Drake bites his lip, not knowing what to do. I move behind Drake, my arm around his waist, I bring the knife up to his neck as I whisper at his ear, “Answer him.”

“Yea... Yeah be right there.”

“Good boy. Now let's go.” I pull away, knife at Drake's back as I follow him to the bedroom.

“Finally I... Oh...” His pretty little boyfriend trails off when he sees me. I watch his eyes widen, “Ad... Adam Lambert.” Heh he's clearly a fan, this may be easier than I thought.

I smirk watching his eyes on me and not Drake. My lips at Drake's ear I whisper, “Go sit in that chair, and don't try anything stupid. You don't want to make things worse.” Complying, Drake walks over to the chair as I follow behind. I point that knife at his little toy, “Don't you fucking move either.” He bites his lip, his eyes following me.

As Drake sits down, I stab the knife into the dresser, and retrieve the rope from my back pocket. I make quick, intricate work of tying him up, making sure he can't get loose. I grab a bandana from the dresser and gag him with it, tying it behind his head. I turn and set my sights on the pretty thing hugging his knees on the bed. I walk over to the bed, his pretty blue eyes following me. He seems a bit scared, but still mildly awestruck.

“Don't worry,” my hand slides through his lovely dirty blond locks, “this isn't about hurting you.” I set my glare at Drake once more, my hand sliding almost possessively through his boy's hair.

“Don't do this.” His voice a tiny whisper.

“They way you looked at me when I walked it, I don't think it will take too much force.” I reply with a smirk.

I can see the fire start to burn in Drake's eyes as my hand moves from the top of his head down to his hands. I urge them and his legs apart, my hand meandering along the boy's thigh. My eyes still on Drake, who's trying to say something through the gag.

“What Drake?” My hand inches higher, sliding over the blond's crotch. I moan softly in approval as I feel a slight hardness there. “Do you love him?” I tilt my head, peering deeper into his eyes. Drake's eyes turned to pleading. “Aw you do... How sweet...” My hand slides into the blond's hair again, as I take it in a tight grip, making him whimper slightly. “At least I know how much this will hurt you then.” My eyes blaze a fire at him, “Then you'll know just how much you fucking hurt me.”

I yank the boy by the hair, taking his lips, forcing my tongue into his mouth. I feel his hands at my chest, trying to push me off. He's much smaller than I am, so it's not really working. I pull away, leaving him gasping for air.

“Don't make me do this...”

“Why should I stop? He didn't fucking stop. He didn't fucking care that I loved him when he cheated on me behind my fucking back!” The anger was at a near boiling point now. I want nothing more than to make him watch as I fuck his boyfriend. Make him suffer much worse than I had.

“Besides, you're clearly enjoying this more than you want to let on.” My hand slides over the blond's crotch again. “Look how hard you are. Tell me you don't want me to fuck you. Tell me you can stop yourself from wanting Adam fucking Lambert.” I don't give him time to answer as my lips are latched onto his again, feeding my dark lust with his responsiveness.

Kicking my shoes off I climb onto the bed, straddling him now. I thought I was hard just jerking off to this idea, but it's nothing compared to actually doing it. I'm hard as a rock, and throbbing at each whimper I draw from Drake's boyfriend. I look over my shoulder, a few strands of hair falling in my eyes. Staring at Drake, I grind against the blond through our clothes. Everything I do is making him harder and harder. I expect to hear my name passing his lips in a minute.

I yank his shirt off and toss it aside, mine is next. Still straddling his legs, I unzip my pants and slide everything down. I watch with an all knowing smirk as the blond's eyes focus on my rock hard cock. His resistance has disintegrated.

“Fuck.” The word fell carelessly from his lips and I hear Drake's sound of frustration.

Laughing darkly, I slide off the bed for a mere second to lose my pants before I'm back on him. Lips at his neck, my hands working to free him of his pants. I jerk his pants off, throwing them aside. Knowing Drake like I do, I reach over to the bed side table, rummaging through the drawer to find the lube I know is in there. Once found, I set it beside me, and look back to the boy.

“Get on your hands and knees facing him.” I nearly growl the command and he willingly complies.

“Mmm I like obedient boys.” I move up behind him, and catch Drake's eyes. The fury in them makes me want to laugh.

I pour the lube into my hand, and slid it along my cock. I have little care to prep the boy, at least I'm using lube. Besides he's damn near panting for my cock right now. Drake looks down, knowing exactly what's coming next.

“Look at me Drake. Fucking watch me. I want to see your eyes while I'm fucking your pretty little toy.” He didn't move, “I said fucking look at me!”

Drake finally looks up, my eyes on his as I push myself into his boyfriend's tight ass. I groan at the feel of it, revel in the fact that Drake is forced to watch.

“How does it fucking feel Drake? Huh?” I start to slowly grind against the boy's ass. “You did it behind my back, I'm doing it right in your fucking face.”  
The blond starts moaning, clearly wanting more. “See how much he fucking loves it?” I pick up my pace a bit, thrusting deeper.

“You lost this Drake and now you'll lose him too. Now he knows what a worthless bastard you are.” I grab the blond's hips thrusting harder. “Just sit there. Fucking soak it in. Watch him beg and scream for me now. You fucking piece of shit!"

As I watch Drake's eyes grow watery. My smile, almost sadistic, as I watch his hurt surface. The fact is almost freeing knowing he finally fucking gets it.

"Aww gonna cry. You're so fucking pathetic Drake. Why the fuck was I with you in the first place? I should have known how useless and two timing you were. Fucking fame chaser. That's the only reason you were with me wasn't it?"

I feel his boyfriend shudder under me. Funny that he is getting off on this as much as I am. I take the opportunity to use it to my advantage. “Say my name, I want Drake to hear it come from your lips.”

I feel him still for a moment, and I slid my hand down to his cock. It throbs at my touch. I stroke it slowly, aiming my slowed thrusts right at his spot. “Say it pretty boy.”

“Adam.” He pants and I thrust against, hard pressure against his spot. “Fuck Adam... so good.”

“That's right let him hear it. I know how to hit that shit don't I? He could never fuck you like this. Trying to be a top, don't make me fucking laugh.” My eyes slip closed, letting everything wash over me. My emotions so raw, the pain, the pleasure rolling together forcing my closer to the edge of a deep abyss.

"I hope you feel it Drake. I know it feels so much worse when it's right in front of your face.” I look to Drake again, and he's still fucking crying. “I fucking love how bad you hurt right now. Stop fucking crying! You're only getting what you deserve."

As it all boils to the top I let my eyes slip shut again, blocking out everything and just taking what I need. Again and again I thrust deep desperately seeking release. I hear my name pouring from from the pretty boy's lips in a sort of litany and I know he's close. I close my fist tighter around his cock.

“Fucking shoot. I want him to watch you come harder for me, than you've ever come for his pathetic ass.” I stroke him faster and faster, forcing his release. When it comes, it's lead by a scream of my name, and I laugh darkly reveling in it.

I release his cock and grab his shoulder, my thrusts rough and uncaring aside from my own release. I stared at Drake's bowed head, my eyes throwing daggers. If my looks could kill, he would be dead and buried. I feel it build, a rushing tidal wave. A deep thrust and I'm growling my release filling his boyfriend's ass.

My nails rake down his back as I slowly remove myself from his body. I watch him fall to the bed, refusing to face Drake. I laugh to myself as I get up from the bed. I don't care how dirty I am as I retrieve my clothes. I dress quickly, and make my way over to Drake. I grab the knife from the dresser, and slid it along his cheek.

“I hate you.” I grab his chin and force his eyes to lock on mine, “I hope I never fucking see your pathetic ass again.”

I release his chin, shoving his face aside. I walk out of the room, pulling my keys from my pocket as I head to the door. I walk out of his house, stopping just outside the door to breathe in the night air. Trying to cleanse myself of all the anger, the hate. As I stare at the sky, I start to shake, my body coming down from it's strange emotional high. I find my way to my car. Leaning against the driver's side I look to the sky again. I unlock the door and get it, needing to get out of there, to get home.

The drive feels long, my thoughts racing faster than my car is speeding down the highway. What if his boyfriend cries rape? Although it wasn't really rape, I doubt he would do that. What if Drake calls the cops? I shake my head at the crazy thought. He'd never do that. What could he say?

I pull into my driveway and kill the engine. I get out and walk into the house, dropping my keys on the table I head straight for the couch. I kick my shoes off and lay back looking up at the ceiling. I close my eyes with a heavy sigh. That's when I feel the tears. The release of years of hate, anger, pain is overwhelming. Through watery eyes I stare at the ceiling. I can't hold it in anymore, and the tears fall in a steady stream as I feel the weight lifted from my shoulders. It's over. I can finally move on. The scary part is, through this emotional roller coaster, the one feeling I don't have is regret.


End file.
